Pineapple Orange

The return to the ritual-happy schooltime draws near, yet I still do not want to go back. It is not due to the heavy workload I must once again bear on my shoulders, being a Senior AVP of IT in the Placement Office, the project head of Parada: The Fine Arts Festival, and of course, a fourth-year student as well. Sometimes, I think I've developed a craving for work nowadays, too much in fact.

The last few weeks of classes left an awful taste in my mouth like an expired can of juice, and no matter how long you brush and gargle, the taste of it still lingers in your tongue and in your mind.

I did not leave for the Christmas break happy. Unthinkable moments happened, something that if one knew me heard about those stories, they would tell that person that it was not me who did all of those things. However, it did happen, and I hate myself for not being able to resist all those provocations. Sometimes, a can of juice explodes when applied with enough pressure like placing that unopened can in a microwave.

I never usually get angry, but people must know that all humans have a certain boiling point. Sure, I may play a martyr most of the time, but they must know when to stop repeating the same thing over and over again. You do not need to repeat it when it's liked bombarded me for the past hour. Yes, there was a meeting, and ever since the start of the meeting, the same "be professional, we have to give in to their likings since they're the one's paying" has been repeated. Is it my fault for being pissed for such an inconsiderate request? Yet, I never dropped my work into another person's hands, isn't that professional enough? Afterwards, here comes this guy who repeats the same message again after the meeting as if it was my fault for all the problems that existed. C'mon, I get it already, so I apologize for putting my hand in front of your face and letting you talk to it.

Now I am the bad guy. I am the inconsiderate one. I've destroyed the harmony of the four seasons juice we've together mixed up. I apologize for voicing out my opinions instead of being the suppressed robot I should've been. It was way out of the line, and I must get my hands and feet attached again in their bondage ropes. Money is power, and I do not have that. All hail the almighty power of the dollah-dollah bill.

I've sent a new design, and I understand why no one commented on it, or probably even saw it. I am the evil that must be punished by ignorance. I'm sorry for what I've done -- to stand up and be a human.

I'm sorry. Let me be part of the bandwagon once more. I submit. I must be one again, to be drunk like pineapple orange, together once more in a harmonious entanglement.

One Time Iron Chef Reprise

Lunch: the place, our home kitchen. Chairman Kaga unveils the theme ingredient: leftovers! After one hour, Sel & Milo unveil two new dishes. First, potato rice, a delicious fried rice dish with a mild taste of soy sauce and potatoes decorated with scrambled eggs and circular pieces of longganisa, a hearty all-in-one treat for the hungry customer. Spaghetti with mushroom & cheese, a little addition of another type of sauce added a new twist in the taste of this everyday recipe.

In the Fantasy NBA angle, after a great game by Sczerbiak today, I withdrew my offer for the meanwhile. I still want to trade Sprewell and Jackson though, but I couldn't find a taker.

If you want to follow my progress, visit: Public League 292808 -- and look for the team "Change of Heart"

One Time Iron Chef

Our household helpers had a day-off but they did not go back home early. My mother and youngest sister were cleaning the house, so that left Sel & I to do the cooking today. Although my cooking skills were not really that good (close to none, in fact, but I'm getting better), I managed to help out with the rice and all the needed knife cutting (my sis is afraid of knives). And after watching Iron Chef (who says this show is stupid?) and watching Sakai magically turn food into art, I was inspired to do create a masterpiece (Fine arts in food... interesting). I made a salad using lettuce, carrots and two different types of experimental thousand island dressing (one for decoration, one for dip.) Somehow, it looked so good that my family was, at first, hesitant to touch the food (or afraid that it might give them indigestion =p) --- I call this dish, Swan's Offering... (corny) --- see pic below to see before it was eaten.


Swan's Offering

I found out that I dropped to #9 in the NBA fantasy basketball game I'm playing after going up as hight as #6. I lack people who rack up assists and steals. I wanted to trade some players, but the other team never responded to my offer. Now, I'm trying to get Udonis Haslem and Rafer Alston in exchange for Latrell Sprewell, Bobby Jackson & Wally Sczerbiak.

It's not Christmas

I got four presents under the tree today: a DKNY pouch bag, an art book, a pack of CD labels and a homemade t-shirt that would take a lot of guts for me to wear. It's a simple black shirt with the same message that a shirt has in Artworx but was only made for girls. It was a dare shirt that was brought about as we were passing by Artworx. It's the "Sorry boys, I'm taken" shirt. Probably, the only time I'll wear that shirt is when I'm actually taken, by a lady that is.

I'm actually not in the Christmas mood today. The shitty client encounter still lingers in my atmosphere like a skunk scent that would never go away. I remember my grandfather who passed away a month ago as well as the many others who perished during the strongest typhoon to hit a country this year.

Little Get-togethers

We went to my Ninong Terry's house since they've invited us for Christmas lunch. Their son, TJ, toured me around their house, showcased his skills in Survivor Series on his Gameboy Advance and showed me his pet guppies, guramis & goldfishes. We watched Finding Nemo after a scrumptious home cooked lunch. Later, TJ showed me his NBA Live 2004 on his PC. I asked if he also watched college basketball, and pointed him to the UAAP-NCAA Live 2004 mod website. My ninong marveled at the screenshots in the site since he was a die-hard Ateneo alumnus, and was longing to play the Blue Eagles in a computer basketball game. I'll give them a copy of the game, just don't know when.

After the Christmas Mass and dinner, I stayed up late just to send Christmas text messages to a lot of people. I used my computer to send them just to make it easier than actually using the keypad on the phone. It also allowed me to send special messages, picture messages, MMS, blinking texts and other gimmicks. I’m sure that Migs liked the pic message he got. :) Right?

A little suprise

In Jack's Loft, Eastwood, we had a Christmas dinner celebration with my relatives. Unexpectedly, we met Migs & Jim hanging around in the area too. We haven't "hanged out" for a while so I went with them for a short time. Stories were told back and forth since we had a lot of catching up to do --- it went a bit crazy, especially when it came to love life (still all still single & looking!) Grabe, saya!

Shitty Clients

I'm not even sure if it is going to be used since I left all design duties to our Publicity head in the Placement Office, however, my competitive and professional nature took over once more and I've created from scratch another design.


New Design?

The client is so difficult to please, but since it involves a lot of money, even if some of my mates want to side with me, they've shifted to the other side. Thank heaven I have one-third of the IT triumvirate, Anton and "the future" Rory, the one I'm passing the IT Placement torch to help me out with all IT duties.

Well, if they have told me earlier to change the design and not on the week that it was needed to be sent to the printer, I would not be pissed as to stress me out. And for the first time, I felt like wishing that I was getting paid for this project.

I admit

Yes, I admit I do like her, ever since the first semester. It was never a secret to the frequent people in the Placement Office since it got discovered little by little. I must be so transparent when I really like someone.

My feelings gradually grew everytime I saw her, being attracted to her charm and intelligence like a woman's perfume becharming a man. It was never her looks that drew me in, although she has that certain cuteness, the one I call "hidden beauty", that type of beauty that always attracts me, a mixture of innocence & happiness. Music also attracts me quite well, and she's a really great singer.

I do not know if she already caught a whiff of this uneasy atmosphere whenever we are in the same location together. I remember all the times the Placement People tried to always put her and I together in one location, whether it be in the same room, the same timeslot during work shifts, or even the same table seated next to each other when having those complimentary dinners after a Placement event.

I have a difficult time striking up a conversation with her. Our interests seemingly do not relate to one another. I remember browsing through her resume when we were nominated for a position in the Placement Office and reading her testimonials in Friendster. I did not realize that by doing so, I felt really intimidated with her capabilities. She was up there riding in a lot of success, whileas I'm still struggling to find my way up. I even felt that if I pursued this relationship, I might be bringing her down, and I do not want to do that to her. I even had bad dreams in my sleep showing me probable consequences if I pursued this, constantly quarelling since we are located in different poles.

Yet, lately, I could not stop thinking about her. I still have those bad dreams in my sleep every now and then, but it is still about her. Some anecdotes I've written recently were inspired by her. I've never felt this way since my first girlfriend.

The placement peeps have been urging me to tell her this already so that (1) they can finally nominate someone for Placement Couple in the traditional senior's farewell party in the Placement Office, (2) I do not regret not telling her that I like her and kill myself in the future & (3) they could watch a true-to-life telenovela unfold before their very eyes. They've used several techniques to coerce me into coming out of my torpe shell. They told me stories, joked about this, had simulations of talk shows with blind items, attracted me to buy their stuff to give to her, drew love symbols on the whiteboard and more.

I really do not know if she knows this secret already. However, like the placement peeps said, she's a smart girl, and she probably knows it by now.

I'm scared.